Not as it should be
by Mr. ducky the original
Summary: not really FF. just uses infected as characters. the res is my own idea. may/may not contain sexual themes. if so, may/may not be yaoi/yuri. physical violence. language. Alternate Universe. I think that sums it up. rated M for all previously mentioned articles that MAY or MAY NOT be included. Will likely contain all special zed from 1 and some from 2. Also Hordes. Love, Mr. Ducky
1. Chapter 1

He walked into the movie theater that made up the makeshift 'armory', just waiting for a man who people only called 'the General' to shut his lips. He kept yammering on and on about gun safety and whatnot. as if it even existed anymore. outside the tall steel wall of 'the settlement' there was one thing and one thing only to shoot. He was rattled out of his wandering thoughts when The General, realizing he wasn't listening, decided to yell quite suddenly at him.

"God dammit boy! You're 16 now act like it and pay attention! Do you want to be something's breakfast out there!?"

The teen answered in his favorite way, by looking the man in the eyes with his. Two venomous green-flame eyes. This shut the man up. they had that affect on a lot of people, even adults, when used in a death stare, maybe because he looked serious about it. That's also why he talked so little, he used his eyes instead. The General shook his head as if clearing out old thoughts, but continued.

"Alright, lets take a look at your training grades..."

he pulled out a clip board. 'apparently even the apocalypse didn't excuse you from grades' thought the teen.

"It says here you were beyond perfect in..."

'yes i'm perfect in everything. get over it.'

"okay. you didn't do well in hand to hand as well as close range combat."

And his world was shattered.

"Don't worry son, you can still shoot some infected from the wall. Plus, since your a shooter, you get-"

Eyes. The General turned and retrieved a large scoped rifle with a white rose painted on the side. it was nearly too heavy for the slight teen to carry around, but he would get used to it.

"This is Rosy. When we're done here, you can show me how well 'beyond perfect' is."

He gave him a smaller battle rifle, also scoped, and a fifteen shot pistol. The General also gave him a small weapon holder strap that looked like sewed together pieces of leather. This let him carry either rifle like a backpack while he held the other one. He put the pistol in one of his large pockets. The General checked the board again.

"Alright... Zak? let's get to the wall."

Even though it was his birthday, and he could finally shoot again, Zak felt the saddest he had ever allowed himself to feel. Silent tears welled up in his eyes as he followed the General up the iron steps of the wall. He will never get out.

He will NEVER leave this place.


	2. Chapter 2

1..2..3.. BANG...4..5..6 BANG...7..8..9 BANG 10. He had done it. He had beaten the best sniper record. Not that it had mattered in the slightest, he had just beaten his last week's record. Snipers didn't get to go anywhere or see anything, and of course they didn't fight. They just stood on top of the wall, day after day, only a little more fortunate than people who could only shoot at a medium range. They got a good view, but medium range shooters only got to see down a street. they stared through small squares cut into the wall at ground level, only large enough to fit an arm through, it meant nothing. Zak was still very depressed and he showed it. but not through being grumpy or acting childish. He showed it to fellow snipers sharing his piece of wall by killing, and killing, endlessly. There were four 'green' snipers including himself, and three 'veteran' snipers who had worked the wall for a few years, and all they could do was stare, shocked at him and his weapon as together, they sang a song of percussion death. Generally, if you were sniping infected on a day where no raids were scheduled, you were working too hard, having fun, or seriously depressed or angry. The snipers watched, as one by one, infected fell all up and down the street. not a single body hit the ground before the next was dead. Multiple hordes of infected were wiped out by one sniper in under an hour. like some sick, real video game. This was never seen, done, or thought possible until today. Zak reached for a small yellow button on a wall pedestal that would run a siren, originally meant for warning, it only brought in infected by the hundreds, but was stopped by one of the older snipers.

"I think you've had enough. You need a brake. Now stop."

He turned to glare at the entire group, and even though she was well into her thirties, the concerned sniper flinched at him. He said his first sentence in weeks.

"I won't stop. I won't 'take a break'."

He reached over and slammed the yellow button with caution written all around it. the sirens went off and the other shooters, creeped out to the max, decide it was time to leave him lone. They all left to go to their separate 'comfort places' He was only a few magazines in, but Zak began to cry, as if the blood being shed by the half-dead was cheap liquor and he was downing it all too quickly. But even though his vision blurred, he continued to look at the infected through his scope, never missing a shot, and actually picking up the pace. Once more, the last one fell to his fire. he reached for the button once more but was stopped again, this time by the General himself.

"Stop it! Your overrunning the res of the wall. Go clean your mess-"

The General stopped as he surveyed the carnage in front of him. he checked the wall for any signs of damage, but didn't even find a trace of blood. The infected never made it that far. Zak walked past the General and the trainer standing next to him, bumping the General's arm with force. Usually disrespect like this would have led to severe punishment, like scrubbing the barracks, which were quite large, or cloud watching for storms from a tall radio tower so high, it swayed. just looking at the tower made most people sick to their stomachs. But the General was too shocked looking at the street of gore, the infected would eat well this week. Most would have thrown up at this sight, but the trainer was the only one to actually lose his lunch. (the smell)

"Mr. Feyson, as head trainer, I believe you have a volunteer."


	3. Chapter 3

Zak was in the armory once more, cleaning his gun 'rosy'. Black burn marks were appearing on the end of the barrel from bullet exhaust and overheating. He had kept his insane shooting pace at max for nearly two weeks now, and every other sniper/ rifle man (med. range shooters) had essentially been assigned to other parts of the wall should Zak be in his 'mood'. He continued on, day and night. Hardly eating or sleeping, but always alert. it was ... inhuman some whispered when they thought he couldn't hear. Other members of the settlement had tried to remove him from his gun, but every time, they were stopped by some surprise that they weren't ready for. A knife, the pistol, he once even held the largely overpowered battle rifle, aimed at the next person's head. All they wanted though, was to get a nights sleep, without the sirens blaring every few hours. But he wasn't going to let that happen...

"Hey there, kid!"

Zak jumped from his thoughts once more. 'I have to stop letting that guy sneak up on me' he thought to himself.

"I've been speaking to a few of the trainers and we're all thinking-"

"My name isn't KID."

Zak knew that the General was intimidated of him. everyone in the entire town was scared of him. His shoulder length hair, his soft deadly voice, his deathly pale skin... and his eyes. The General frowned at him but continued.

"You want out,-"

Zak blinked. 'Oh REEEAAALLY?' he thought to himself, 'I had no idea.'

"-And I want less people dying while out on their missions to keep the community alive."

Zak looked at him like one would look at an idiot but gave him a 'go ahead' nod.

"So, the raiders and i have decided to try to retrain you in your... failed... scavenging courses, and see if we can't make you somewhat of a... specialist."

Zak nodded his head and kept his bored expression on his face, but on the inside, his stomach was doing flips. Specialists weren't called so because of how good they are with weapons, everyone was good with weapons here, but rather because their job is to go out, with/without raiding parties, to hunt down and kill... different... infected. They were much stronger and even more so faster than regular infected. they were sometimes smart, and sometimes hunted in packs. some had even been heard of setting traps for humans. And they were the main cause of deaths in the settlement. They were evil, cold blooded, killers. only a few have seen any and lived. and none of them would say what they looked like.

"Now I know this may seem like a strange development for you, but if your willing to accept, you can have this."

True. few specialists lived up to there job for very long. some had even died within a week from getting the job. But Zak quickly forgot about this as he saw the General pull out a small scope with a metal rod attached to a black cylinder. He removed Rosy's current scope, replaced it with the newer, better one, and fit the cylinder tight over the firing chamber. a silencer. Zak nodded in what was supposed to be appreciation, but since he had never done so before, the general just took it as a yes. and a dismissal.

"Training starts tomorrow, now get some rest. Oh! and bye the way, the sirens have been disconnected due to... electronical problems."

And with that, the general left. Zak left not too long after that. in fact he was almost jogging home. He went a few blocks to his home near the wall. The settlement was actually once a rural area. The military couldn't retrieve any city blocks because they lacked the resources. and when all forms of government had dissolved, they weren't going to get any. Now the iron and steel fortress stands, taking in any survivors willing and needing the help, changing their names, hiding their pasts. Since he could use a gun better than most, Zak got his own living quarters. most had to share. He went up the stairs to his king size bed(it was once some rich persons house but they were fairly conservative.)and he just dropped in it. He teared up and fell asleep. But this time, he was happy.


	4. Chapter 4

"Again!" Thump! Zak was getting pissed now. apparently, he was having more trouble than he remembered with close quarters combat. he can only throw one weapon and it was the least damaging. knives. and he had to have enough strength to stop a charging bull of a trainer who obviously loved football as a kid. the only way Zak could stop this guy, Jason, with his bare hands, was to jump up and grab him by the neck, swing around him like a pole, and pull HARD. this effectively choked him down, but he failed because he was to close to the mouth of the 'Dead'.He couldn't fight with two weapons at the same time either. 'No wonder we haven't had a volunteer specialist in forever' thought Zak. He was, However, excelling in makeshift weaponry. something just clicked this time around and now, if he makes it, he can use it. if he had an expertly built spear and a self built spear, he can only use the homemade spear. He threw his last axe with little hope of hitting the target. he didn't. 12 throws. 12 misses.

"Alright."

The trainer said with an exasperated sigh.

"I think your going to have to take your first practice run praying."

Zak's heart kept pumping in his chest. All he would be allowed to use were practice knives, and guns that shot b-b pellets. he couldn't handle anything else. If he failed... No he wouldn't fail. He wouldn't give up. he walked to one end of the course and waited for the trainer to get through his little rule explanation speech. He knew the rules, he just waited for the GO.

"All you have to do kid, is run to the other end of the course, grab the flag, and get back within the time limit."

easy enough

"And if a practice dummy pops up, you have to take it out before you can pass."

less easy

"And all you have is a twenty shot pistol, and twenty knives."

moderately easy

"there are thirty dummy's so you don't get very many misses."

'Just say _GO_ already' He thought as he drew a throwing knife in his right hand and a b-b pistol in the other.

"Ready...Steady...And...Just!"

Zak flashed in anger and threw his knife, which was rather sharp for just practice, at the feet of the trainer, missing his big toe by just an inch and skimming his shoe, then he drew another knife so fast, you would have thought that someone else had thrown it. The trainer himself, jumped in surprise and accidently triggered the timer. after about two seconds, he notices and yells GO, but too late, Zak was already off when he heard the timer click. He was fast, very fast. Strange, was what he thought because he was one of the slowest people in training just a few weeks ago. He saw the first training dummy appear from a patch of really tall grass that they didn't keep short for this very reason. he threw his knife and it stuck the target mark. 'Right in the eye' he thought as he registered it slightly of to the right of the nose area. this was how the whole test was. dummy, knife or b-b, pass. these seem like three simple steps, but to anyone watching, it looked like they were all happening at once. he was at the twenty seventh dummy and was ready to reach for the flag, because he was at the other end of the field and WAY ahead of the time. and he knew it. He was fast now. He grabbed the flag, and looked like he shot out of a cannon, because instead of turning on the spot, he ran around the flag while grabbing it, effectively keeping his momentum. he was nearly at the trainer, when the last three dummies appeared from right in front of the finish line. He dropped the flag, pulled out his knife pouch, and tore the shit out of those burlap bodies. three knives in each. he picked up the flag, and started running again, and when he reached the finish, he threw the flag pole like a javelin, and it landed right next to the cowardly trainer who, nearly had a seizure but luckily didn't. Zak rushed up to the trainer, grabbed the timer from his slack hand, and stopped it. twenty two seconds on the clock. unheard of. he showed the trainer that he made it so he could get his specialist card.

"Damn kid you run like... Well, I don't know, But you sure run!"

This made Zak feel good inside. He was leaving.

"You may only be a half-a-specialist, but I'd take you as a specialist over any other person in the entire town."

Zak decided to try something he had never done before. Not since before coming to the settlement. He gave a small smile, more of a smirk, and the trainer was about to congratulate him further, but then he noticed Zak's face. He paled, and gave Zak his card and sent him on. Zak didn't care, he was going to go and get his first assignment. He went directly to the general in the armory for his first mission. The people he walked by on the sidewalk on his way to the old theater that made up the armory, seemed to stop and move to the edge of the sidewalk, or the wall of the buildings. a few even crossed the street to avoid him. Zak thought it was just his creepy eyes that they were seeing and he was partially right. Zak, not caring about personal appearance, hadn't looked in a mirror in months. So he just remembers what his eyes looked like, however, unknown to him, his left eye didn't look like green flame. it hadn't since the test. It was a more yellow green. and it was slowly changing to the color of red.

Blood red.


	5. Chapter 5

Zak was at the front door of the armory, composing himself before entering. He reached for the handle of the door when Anne, the veteran, walked out. she turned, as if to apologize, but instead gave him a funny look. 'Bitch' Zak thought as he entered. He went straight for the generals office and got the opportunity of a life time. the general was in a five wheel chair, taking a nap. Zak smiled and decided to just sit in a small chai across from the general's desk. he leaned forward, and in a sort of hissing whisper, he spoke.

"General... General..."

He was just beginning to stir from his sleep, and had just opened his eyes when Zak yelled as loud as he could (which wasn't too loud due to his voice misuse)

"GENERAL!"

The old soldier nearly fell right out of his chair from shock, not that it mattered, the chair just toppled with him in it. Zak found this beyond hilarious and smirked slightly. Then he made his face serious and looked over the Generals desk to the pitiful man on the floor.

"I need a mission."

He said this with the most seriously intense voice he could. The General gaped up at the shock of his green flame eyes before opening a drawer on his desk and handing him a folder, pulled at random. Zak grabbed it and began and began to leave but stopped short.

"I won't tell anyone that the great war hero 'General' was sleeping at his desk on the job. Now get up."

The generals face had turned red with anger and embarrassment, and he had began a retort, but Zak had already left. Zak went home to put together a mission pack. (food, water, rotten meat, etc.) He left for the barracks to meet his team. 'How shocked they'll be to see me out of training so soon, and with my first mission.' Zak, not willing to wait, opened the recycled paper folder carefully. It was a pretty simple first mission. all he had to go was fight his way across town to the drug store area and check them for basic medical supplies. They don't take it all just in case someone swings by town needing some but doesn't know about the settlement. Zak's train of thought stopped when he reached the barracks. He swept his eyebrow length hair over, straightened his all black clothing, and entered. He needed to look good when meeting his team. He checked the deployment roster and saw he had been assigned to 'team six'. He searched the old motel's halls for a door numbered 6 and entered. The average raider party consisted of about eight people at least. most were melee combatants, few guns, and had too be fast. fast thinkers, runners, and scavengers. this wasn't team six. In fact, there was no one in the room. Zak stood in the doorway, checking and rechecking the roster. eventually, a young girl ran by with a peice of paper and she stapled on the door to room six. She had ran off before Zak could ask where team six was so he read the paper. He turned paler than he already was, which was hard to believe possible, as he read.

Team six was gone. they had an accident the previous day with an explosive meant to block off a street to slow infected movement through the city. He moved down to the status report on the bottom of the paper. KIA. all of them. He had failed before even starting. he wouldn't be allowed into any other team because they already had about ten members each. too many. No one was permitted to leave unless they were part of a team or they would likely get kicked out of the settlement, if they survived. But he wasn't going to fail again.


	6. Chapter 6

He walked on his way to the gate, a determined frown on his face. He stopped at his house on his way to the gate. He grabbed an extra bag which he wouldn't have needed if his team had been there with one. He was just leaving his house when he saw that someone had left an old cardboard box on his front porch. He looked up and down the street to determine who had left this 'gift' for him, but it was deserted. He opened it to find a pair of dark tinted sunglasses, black. He put them on and continued on without another thought. it wasn't uncommon for people to leave small tokens of luck to people they had heard were leaving the safety of the settlement, there just wasn't anyone that Zak knew that would leave him such a thing. He walked to a small security box not far from the gate which contained only one man on watch. This man was in charge of opening and closing the few doors that led in and out through the wall. there were only two kinds of doors through the wall. there were doors that were large enough for one person to go through at a time, and there were doors large enough for a tank and semi-truck to share. He knocked hard on the reinforced glass window and motioned for the man to unlock the door. The lock clicked, and Zak walked in, closing the door behind him.

"I need a door unlocked. We need some medicine, our stocks are running low."

"Sorry kid, I don't see your escort, and you look too... green."

Zak thought he didn't have time for this and held his battle rifle to the mans head, even though, in all honesty, he had no idea how to use it properly.

"Unlock the door. Now."

"Better you than me."

The man pressed a small yellow button as he said this. a small began to slowly open in the wall and Zak made a run for it. He was nearly there when he heard someone yell out a warning.

"SIREN!"

The sirens blared as the began to slowly shut automatically. The screams of the infected mob were heard over the wall, but instead of slowing, Zak had decided it was a now or never thing and began to sprint for his life. or death. He overheard someone yell

"What the hell are you-"

But the voice was cut off as Zak flew right through the door, scraping the shit out of his left arm, but he couldn't think about it right now. The door had slammed shut. Zak turned to see the horde advancing on him in their 'run' which, for most humans, was just a quick jog. Their teeth gnashed and their claws flew, almost as if they had already captured their prey.

"Shit!"

Zak said in his almost inaudible voice as all the guns on his flanks began to fire. He couldn't move forward, he would get shot up or eaten. He couldn't go back, the door was closed,locked, and several inches thick. And he couldn't just climb the wall, it had no foot or hand holds to do so. And their was nowhere to hide. He switched out his battle rifle for Rosy, and got down on one knee, almost as if he were to propose to a woman. He let off the first shot. BANG! a zombie near the front dropped, missing most of his head. 1. BANG! Another's leg flew off, causing it to stumble and trip up several others. 2. BANG! This bullet flew at just the right angle, causing it to go through three infected at once. 3. What seemed like minutes between shots for Zak wasn't even half of a second in reality. His ammo clips could only hold 10 rounds, but you'd think he didn't need to reload if you saw the speed at which he did so. 10, 20, 40 infected fell before he stopped counting. Rosy sang her song once more. and once she sang, she didn't stop until they were all dead. Zak ceased fire as did the wall shooters. The door began to open but instead of trying to get in as soon as possible, he ran. He wasn't going back in. not until his mission was completed. It was the general himself who screamed through the barely open door. But Zak was gone. A few slow infected began to walk out from behind buildings and were getting close. Zak switched out Rosy for his battle rifle, which was more suited to close range combat. Still feeling the exhilarating rush of adrenaline, Zak punched three holes into the first attacker. He had aimed for the heart, but the rifle had been set to automatic ruining his aim entirely. The zombie fell with a hole in its heart. and two in its head. Zak reset the fire control to a single shot and continued. 'Just like training' he thought. He kept this up for a couple of blocks until he could just dodge around the few infected. if he kept killing, then the blood would attract more than he could handle. He looked around and saw an old hardware store. He couldn't tell what kind of store it was, but it didn't matter. he ran for it, kicking a zombie in the face to get to the front door. Once inside, he slammed the door and pushed a soda machine in front of it. 'That should hold' he thought as he inspected the simple barricade. He unstrapped his silent rifle Rosy, and proceeded to search the store for infected. their was one body in the store. it was an old man who had been smashed by a fallen shelf covered in paint cans. He looked like he had been dead for a few years, so Zak left the body alone. 'I can crash here until tomorrow.' he thought as the adrenaline high started to come down. This was a good thing for Zak, seeing as to the sun was coming down too. He stuffed one of his bags with children's stuffed animals that were near the front of the store, and used it as a pillow. The floor was hard and cold, but Zak was too exhausted to care and fell asleep quickly. It was a deep sleep without dreams, but still, the best he had slept in months.


End file.
